Cry
by HistoryNut1997
Summary: After getting into a nasty fight with Germany, Prussia gets a series of flashbacks of all the times that he has cried. He then believes that Germany hates him. Human names used. Implied GerIta. Warnings: semi-graphic rape scenes, suicide, poor attempt at including history in a story, and some cursing.


**A/N: I'm not too proud of this story, but it was demanding to be uploaded. I tried to keep the everyone somewhat in character, but I think that I have failed miserably. If you don't like that, then don't read this fic. Also, there is bound to be mistakes since I'm too tired to read it more than once. **

**I'll tell you from now, Germany is kind of a douche bag until the end of the story. Also, this story is not happy in really any way, but I don't think it will exactly be a tearjerker since I'm not that good. **

**Also, for my story, "Don't Eat England's Food or This Will Happen", I got an anonymous review asking if he or she could translate it into Chinese, so I just wanted to say that I give my permission if the person reads this story. **

**Now that this story is published, I can begin to finally work on the second chapter of "Broken Heart". YAY! **

**Disclaimer: I do not-**

**Prussia: I want to do it!**

**Me: No!**

**Prussia: Well, if you're going to-**

**Me: Don't spoil it for the readers! Fine, you can do the disclaimer.**

**Prussia: Yay! Victoria does not own the Awesome me or Hetalia, if she did, then I'd be paired with that wuss, Austria!**

**Me: *face palm* Close enough. Anyway, on with the fic!**

"I am too awesome to cry," Gilbert said to himself as he sat on his bed, hunched over and near weeping, "I. Am. Too. Awesome. To. Cry."

This had become his mantra as he was finding it hard to prevent the tears from falling. He breathed in and out, slowly. He was too awesome to cry. He wouldn't cry. No. He. Wouldn't. Cry.

_ Gott verdammt! _He _was _crying, he realized when he felt the wetness on his , the Awesome Prussia, had been reduced to tears by just a few words said by his little _bruder. _

_I hate you! _Ludwig's words were on constant replay in his head. _I hate you! _

The two had gotten into many fights over the years they had known each other, but never had his brother said that to him. He felt like part of him had faded as soon has Ludwig had uttered the words. And he had meant them. It wasn't like the times when a person would say that they hated someone and not mean it. No, Ludwig really _hated _him now. And he was dying inside because of it.

The Prussian suddenly sobbed loudly and quickly slapped his hand over his mouth. He couldn't let Ludwig hear him crying. He couldn't seem weak in front of the man who now despised him.

The hand didn't stop another sob from escaping the albino's lips. To muffle the sounds, he collapsed onto his bed, planting his face into the pillow. He screamed and sobbed, angry with himself for being a pussy. Awesome people did not cry! And yet, he could not stop the wails he was making.

It was all his brother's fault, he told himself. He'd always had a soft spot for the German, from the day they first met. He didn't want to admit it, but he had sometimes acted like a mother to the blonde.

Gilbert's cries died down as he drifted off into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares. Well, memories, actually.

* * *

_It was 1918. The Central Powers all stood outside the Allies' tent, each waiting to receive their punishment. Gilbert looked around at everyone's defeated faces._

_ Roderich and Elizabeta were embracing each other, knowing that they were most likely going to be separated. Ludwig's face remained stoic, but Gilbert could tell he was nervous by the shaking in his brother's hands. Hell, even _he, _the Awesome Kingdom of Prussia, was nervous about what punishment he would receive._

_ The American Ally, Alfred, Gilbert thought his name is, came out, notifying them that the deliberations are over. The Prussian was the first up to hear his fate. He hesitantly walked into the tent, feeling like he was going to be sick. _

_ The Allies were around a makeshift table, their faces all serious. The albino nearly flinched when he saw his old friend, Francis, looking at him with coldness in his eyes. Not exactly pure hate, but definitely not the affection that had once inhabited the Frenchman's blue eyes. _

_ England, the spokesperson, cleared his throat and began speaking._

_ "As you can tell, you are on the losing side of the war and so, punishment is in order. For you, the Kingdom of Prussia will be stripped of its title, making you a Free state."_

_ The red-eyed man's knees nearly gave out on him, but he managed to stay upright. All he could do was nod while his ears buzzed and his head spun. _He was no longer a kingdom. _Sure, his punishment could have been worse, but _he was no longer a fucking kingdom!

_ They dismissed him, telling him to send Roderich and Elizabeta in, and he left as fast as he could. As soon as he was outside, he put a cigarette to his mouth and lit it with trembling hands. _

_ He looked over to his brother and saw that he was staring off into space, still no emotion in his expression. He looked over suddenly, as if he could tell that Gilbert was there. The Prussian could see sadness in the icy blue eyes._

_ "What was your punishment?" The German asked softly._

_ "I'm no longer a kingdom," the albino answered flatly, "I am a Free state now." He spat the last part out with much venom in his voice. _

_ "Oh," was all Ludwig said. There was really nothing else he _could _say. _

_ Roderich and Elizabeta came out then, the Hungarian with tears in her eyes and the Austrian doing his best to comfort her while trying not to cry himself. _

_ When Ludwig went into the tent, there was silence between the three nations. The only noise was Elizabeta's sniffling. Gilbert didn't even need to ask what was going to happen to them; he could tell just by looking at them. _

_ Ludwig was in the tent for what seemed like forever to the Prussian. His stomach was churning in worry about the fate of his precious _bruder. _Finally, after only about fifteen minutes, but what had felt like an eternity, the German man came out, face blank but looking paler than when he had gone in. _

_ "What's your fate?" he asked apprehensively. _

_ "My country has been blamed for everything. I have to pay 132 million marks for compensation, and my military has to be cut down to only one hundred thousand men." _

_ Gilbert felt his heart plummet into his stomach at his brother's words. There was _no way _his brother was going to be able to pay 132 _billion _marks! _

_ That night, for the first time since he could remember, he cried._

* * *

_ The year was 1938. Austria had just been annexed into Germany. The people were happy. But, Gilbert and Roderich were not. _

_ He was forced to watch as his little brother fucked and humiliated his former enemy, forced to hear every loud, animalistic groan Ludwig gave off, every quiet whimper of pain that the Austrian made. It made him sick. _

_ Sure, he had said that he'd claimed the violet-eyed man's vital regions, but he had never actually _forced _him. No, he had never touched him like _that.

_ Ludwig's mind was no longer all there; that had to be it. His boss was a crazy motherfucker, so it was affecting the nation himself. There was no way the Ludwig that Gilbert knew would ever do something like that. _

_ Roderich precipitously let out a shriek of pain, snapping the Prussian out of his reverie. He looked up and almost lost his lunch as he saw the blood that was beginning to pour out from between the Austrian's legs. _

_ Gilbert tried yelling at his brother like he did when the whole thing had started. He told his brother to just _stop _because he was hurting Roddy. It only made Ludwig thrust in harder, making the piano player wail in agony. _

_ When the German had finally released, he just left the Austrian on the floor, stark naked, shaking like a leaf, and surrounded by blood and cum. _

_ Gilbert bent down and whispered words of apology into Roderich's ear, apologizing for his brother's behavior. Apologizing for not being able to do anything to stop his brother (he was a lot weaker than Ludwig at the moment so he couldn't fight him. _

_Oh_ Gott, _Roderich was so _broken_ after that incident. Gilbert had felt so guilty, but the amethyst-eyed man didn't seem to blame him. After the rape, though, they were both weary (though Roderich was more _afraid_) of Ludwig. _

_ And the night of the rape, Gilbert had cried with Roderich, cried for the first time in twenty years._

* * *

_ 1947. Gilbert was back in the tent of the Allies, waiting for his new punishment. He and his brother had lost another World War. _

_ This time, while the scene before him was relatively the same, there were a few differences. Ivan and Yao were both present this time, Ludwig was with him, and Alfred would be the spokesman rather than Arthur. _

_ He looked over and saw the two Italian brothers. He felt anger over their betrayal. (Feliciano had made Ludwig actually _cry._) What cowards they were, joining the Allied Powers as soon as their country was threatened to be invaded. _

_ Then he sighed. It was actually for the better, he supposed. Feliciano and Lovino were too delicate to receive the harsh punishment that he and his brother were sure to receive._

_ "Okay, dudes!" Alfred began in his booming voice, "You totally lost this war, so you are being punished! For you, Gilbert, we have decided that Prussia is to blame for this war because of its influence on Germany. So, instead of reinstating the government, Prussia is hereby dissolved!"_

_ Gilbert did not here if anything was said after the word 'dissolved.' This time, his knees _did _give out on him and he collapsed to the ground, the world going dark._

_ "—der? Bruder?" was the first thing he heard as he came to about five minutes later._

_ "West?" he rasped and was ashamed about how weak his voice was._

_ Ludwig chuckled humorously and responded, "I never knew that nickname would be appropriate. They're splitting the country into to. I am to represent the West and you are to represent the East."_

_ Gilbert's eyes widened, "Separating Germany?"_

_ The German nodded and quietly said, "You have to go with Ivan."_

_ The Prussian—well, East German now—felt his stomach drop at the thought of having to go with that bastard. He knew what the man was capable of, and he knew the man had lost his sanity after the revolution and civil war. _

_ The Russian had then come up to Gilbert with a sick, sadistic, yet somehow childlike smile and began to drag the red-eyed man away. He screamed and thrashed in the violet-eyed nation's hold and begged to at least hug his baby _bruder. _He never got to say good bye. _

_ That night, as the Russian pounded into him harshly, Gilbert screamed and cried._

* * *

_ The day before the wall was first started on was the last day that Gilbert saw his brother for almost thirty years. His brother had come to West Berlin to see him. They hadn't seen each other in months and so they decided to meet up. If only they had known that they would be separated…_

_ The next morning, the albino woke to shouts. He looked out his window, but he couldn't see anything, so he decided to go out and take a look. _

_ Barbed wire, that's what he saw. And guards. Oh, were there loads of guards. He felt sick as he saw that they were shooting anyone that tried to get through the wire and into the west side of the city. He felt a bit grateful that some people were able to get away. _

_ Over the years, the Berlin Wall became more advanced and harder to escape through. Gilbert felt the death of his people every time they were shot and killed. He cried for every last one of them._

* * *

_ November 9, 1989 was the day that East and West were united once more. Sure, not yet officially, but it was still a day to celebrate. Families that had been split for twenty-eight years were now reunited, everyone embracing each other. _

_ Gilbert stumbled through the streets of West Berlin, weak but still smiling. Over the forty years that he had been with the Russian, he had been brutally raped and beaten, he had been starved, and he had been locked up for days on end, with nothing but himself for company, but he had never lost hope. The Prussian was determined to keep his sanity in the anticipation that he would one day see his brother again. _

_ He called out, "West! West! Where are you? West!" Every time he looked around, he expected to see his brother, but he never did. Where was he? Didn't he know that the wall had begun to fall? That his brother was waiting for him? That Gilbert wanted to see him? That the albino loved him? Where the fuck_ was_ he? _

_ Tears began to fall from his eyes then. He knew that his brother wasn't here, that he wasn't coming. _

_ "West…" he sobbed, "Why?"_

_ He didn't find out until later that Ludwig had been in Bonn, too busy to come see his brother for the first time in nearly thirty years._

_ Gilbert had cried that night, too._

* * *

The Prussian woke up with tears in his eyes. The flashbacks had made him realize something.

He was an idiot. He had believed that Ludwig had loved him, but, for all these years, he had been so wrong. His brother had taken his heart and squashed it and then took a hammer and smashed it and then chopped it up into bits.

Oh, _Gott! _He sounded like a teenager going through a bout of unrequited love! But, it was true; West had broken his heart.

But he _had _been a burden to the younger man after Germany had been reunited. He was basically freeloading off of his brother now that he no longer was a country. He then decided that he would no longer get in his brother's way.

* * *

Ludwig could count all the times he had cried on one hand—three times in his whole life. The first time had been when Feliciano had betrayed him during World War II, the second when he had realized what he'd done under Hitler's rule, and the third had been when the Berlin wall had separated him and his brother.

The first time he had allowed tears to fall down his cheeks was when Feli had joined the Allies. He had always known that the boy was a weak country and a coward, but he had never thought that the Italian would betray him. He would never have admitted it then, but he had fallen in love with the pathetic pasta lover.

What had been worse than the fact that he was actually crying was that Gilbert had seen it. He had thought that his brother would laugh at him and tell him to man up, but the albino had just given him a sympathetic look and put a hand on his shoulder. That was just his brother's way of comforting someone.

The second time, he had stared in horror at the concentration camp he was out. The smell of sickness, death, and burning flesh that hung over the air had been enough to make him double over and retch. He had only vomited more when he realized fully what he had done.

He had seen the people in the camps before the Allies had taken him there, but he had not been in his right mind at the time. He had been in Nazi Germany mode then. His sanity had been affected by Hitler.

Now that he was almost right in the head once again, he was beyond disgusted at what went on in these camps. Oh, _Gott, _he also remembered what he had done to Roderich. He had been so horrible! He deserved any punishment that he was going to be given to him.

He had cried as soon as he had finished emptying the contents of his stomach.

The last time he had cried he had started with wide eyes at the barbed wire that surrounded West Berlin and separated him from his brother. He hadn't even realized he was weeping until Alfred had so bluntly pointed it out.

He had been close to crying after the fight he had had with Gilbert where he had said that he hated him. He hadn't meant it; he was just mad. He had felt guilty as soon as he saw the shocked and hurt expression on his brother's face that he had desperately tried to mask. He also saw the tears that his brother fought to keep in his eyes. But his damn pride had gotten the better of him and had prevented him from apologizing.

Suddenly, a loud gunshot rang throughout the house, making Ludwig's heart stop. It had come from somewhere around his brother's room. He ran as quickly as he could; his heart had decided to restart, and it was currently pounding so hard he thought his chest might burst.

He got to Gilbert's room and threw the door open, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him. The lights were on so Ludwig could see the whole scene. The red-eyed man was lying face down into the pillow, gun clutched in his hand, and blood cascading down his face.

He stood there for a while, mouth agape, frozen on the spot. The sight of a piece of paper with what was clearly his brother's chicken scratch was what made him move.

The note read:

_West, _

_I'm sorry that I have been a burden for you all these years, but I'm going to change that now. You won't have to deal with an unawesome idiot anymore. Don't blame yourself for my death, Ludwig. It was my own fault for growing too attached to you. _

_Love, _

_Gilbert_

_P.S. Even in death, I'll still be more awesome than you! Kesesesese! _

The note may have told Ludwig to not feel at fault for Gilbert's death, but that didn't mean that he would listen. He had never felt so guilty in his whole life, even after the Holocaust. Here his brother was, lying on the bed dead.

'How could he expect me not to blame myself after all that I did to him?' Ludwig thought. He was angry, angry with himself.

And for the fourth time in his life, Ludwig let himself cry.

* * *

**Historical Notes: (I didn't do much research, so if anything is wrong, then too bad.)**

**-1918: The Kingdom of Prussia was abolished and made into a Free state. It made up most of Germany at the time.**

**-1918: The Austro-Hungarian Empire was split up after WWI**

**-Germany was seriously forced to pay 132 billion marks in compensation for WWI**

**-1938: Austria is annexed into Nazi Germany**

**-1943 (I think): Italy changed sides after Mussolini was overthrown. **

**-1947: Prussia officially dissolved; blamed for its militarism  
**

**-Germany was split into two after WWII: The Federal Republic of Germany (West), split into three sectors- American, British, and French and the Democratic Republic of Germany (East), ruled by Soviet Union. Berlin was similarly divided.**

**-August 13, 1961: In the middle of the night, Soviets began constructing the Berlin Wall. Started as barbed wire. Split the city in half. In the twenty eight years that it was up, it went through four "generations"**

**-November 9, 1989: The wall began to fall. **

**Okay, now that that's done, I can finally go to bed.**


End file.
